At Home on Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [74]
“To top it off, we ruined Easter dinner.” Cici glanced over at Lindsay. “I’m awfully sorry. After the way we behaved, the Hollands probably don’t think we’re qualified to care for ourselves, much less Noah.”
Lindsay smiled absently, her gaze distant. “Oh, that’s okay. They were good sports about it. And you saw how Prissy was after dinner, wanting to ooh and ahh over the chicks.”
“You’ve got to admit they’re awfully cute. They remind me of those little stuffed chicks we used to put in the kids’ Easter baskets.”
“Maybe that’s where I went wrong,” mused Cici. “I should have made sure that stupid Easter bunny only left chocolate chickens.”
Bridget laughed. “Well, I think Lori and I have come to an agreement—a hundred forty-four chickens are too much. So we agreed to keep two dozen. I called Jonesie and he was really nice about taking the rest of them back. He said he had a feeling he’d be hearing from us.”
“I’ll just bet he did.” Cici sighed. “Thanks for handling that for me, Bridge. I didn’t dare try to bring that subject up. But why are we keeping two dozen? Couldn’t you have talked her into returning them all?”
Bridget rocked complacently. “It will be nice to have the eggs,” she said. “And besides, I like chickens.”
“Sometimes I don’t know which of you is worse,” Cici said, sipping her wine. “In fact, I think you’re probably very bad for each other.” She glanced over at Lindsay, who was gazing out over the mountains, lost in thought. “Everything okay, Linds?”
“Hmm?” She looked at Cici absently. “Sure, fine. Two dozen. Right. Sounds great.”
Bridget and Cici exchanged a look. “You seem preoccupied.”
Lindsay turned her attention to the almost untouched glass of wine in her hand, and took a sip. “Did you know all you have to do to get a permit for a wildlife preserve is to apply to the Department of Natural Resources? I talked to Zeb—you know, Farley’s cousin—after services this morning.”
Cici’s eyes went wide. “Wildlife preserve? What are you talking about?”
“I know.” Bridget leaned forward, a note of excitement in her voice. “Bambi!”
Lindsay nodded. “You have to be approved, of course, but he said he would talk to his boss and didn’t think there would be any problem. Meanwhile he can give us a temporary permit.”
“Which means we don’t have to go to court!” Bridget exclaimed.
“Well, we do,” Lindsay clarified, “but we won’t have to pay a fine, and we get to keep Bambi.”
Cici stared at the two of them. “Sheep, chickens, deer . . . what’s next, skunks and raccoons?” She blew out her breath and gave a short shake of her head. “We already are a wildlife preserve. Might as well make it legal.”
“Exactly,” Lindsay agreed thoughtfully, sipping her wine. “And all it takes is a piece of paper.”
“Well, well, well,” Bridget said with satisfaction. “Will you look at us? We start out three fancy ladies from the city and we end up running a wildlife preserve. I love the way that sounds.”
“Don’t get too carried away,” Cici warned. “It’s just a title. And it’s just one deer. Lindsay, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I,” murmured Lindsay, almost too softly to be heard.
“It just goes to show,” Bridget insisted, “you never know where life is going to take you.”
“Well, I’ll drink to that.” Cici held out her glass.
“Right,” Lindsay said with a sudden resolve, and she leaned forward to touch her glass to both of theirs. And then she said, “I’m going to adopt Noah.”
The three of them remained perfectly motionless, glasses touching, eyes locked together, for a long silent moment. Bridget and Cici studied Lindsay’s face, the set of her shoulders, the quiet certainty in her eyes. They listened to what she did not say. They listened, almost, to her thoughts.
“Okay.”
“All right then.”
The three women sat back, sipped their wine, and said nothing more.